


Secrets Revealed: Part 1 - Voices of the Past and Present

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: Secrets Revealed [1]
Category: Wicked - All Media Types, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman, Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bechdel Test Pass, F/F, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rain finds herself in possession of Glinda's journal, which allows her the opportunity to learn more about the unique relationship between the grandmother she never knew and the woman that raised her from childhood, as well as her own relationship with Tip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 15 January - 24 March 2012  
> Word Count: 10194  
> Written for: [](http://witchesbigbang.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**witchesbigbang**](http://witchesbigbang.dreamwidth.org/) 2012  
>  Artist: [](http://crescent-gaia.livejournal.com/profile)[**crescent_gaia**](http://crescent-gaia.livejournal.com/)  
>  Link to art: See below  
> Spoilers: Consider all four books of the _Wicked Years_ series fair game.  
>  Warnings: Mention of canon character deaths that have taken place during the entire series.  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo Fanfic  
> Link to: <http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/>  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
> 
> Disclaimer: "Wicked," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwarz, Winnie Holzman, and Universal Pictures. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Wicked," any of its owners, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This story was a true labor of love for me. I've always loved the Elphaba/Glinda pairing, and adore exploring their relationship, even beyond Elphaba's death in _Wicked_. The idea of this journal struck me as something Elphaba would do, so I ran with it. I'm actually planning on this being a full series that will span Glinda's entire lifetime during the four books. That I found similarities between the Elphaba/Glinda and Rain/Tip relationships really wasn't all that much of a surprise for me. Rain is more like her grandmother than she cares to admit. I look forward to exploring the younger couple's relationship more in depth as this series continues.
> 
> The title for this particular section came from the name of the fanmix that [](http://crescent-gaia.livejournal.com/profile)[**crescent_gaia**](http://crescent-gaia.livejournal.com/) made for me. I fell in love with that name, and when I finally made the decision to make this a series, it seemed the appropriate title for this first part.
> 
> Dedication: My muses, for always being willing to try…
> 
> Beta: [](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/)**shatterpath**
> 
> Check out the fanmix by clicking below
> 
>   
> [](http://crescentfanfic.livejournal.com/5974.html)  
>    
> 

She never expected to be back in the Emerald City so soon after leaving it. In truth, she never expected to step foot inside the great glittering jewel of Oz in this or any other lifetime. She knew she wasn't lucky enough to live multiple lifetimes like Tip -- Her Highness -- did. Or whatever magical version of multiple lives it was that the reigning Ozma had been living all this time. There was no magic spell to give her the equivalent of immortality, and she certainly didn't want it if there was such a thing. It was hard enough dealing with the people who believed she was the reincarnation of Saint Aelphaba or, worse, of her dead grandmother.

It was that very connection to her grandmother that gave her pause. When she was just the broom girl at Mockbeggar Hall, no one knew anything about that connection. She didn't even know of the connection. It wasn't like her father had given her any sort of looking glass to view herself in. She'd always assumed she looked like everyone else, or so nondescript as to fade into the shadows. It wasn't until that damnable spell that Mombey cast that the reality of her life -- and her lineage -- was revealed to all and sundry.

And that included the revelation about Tip. Looking back, it seemed obvious that she should have guessed. _Someone_ should have guessed. Tip. Tippetarius. How could anyone _not_ make that connection? Was it because she'd been transformed into a boy? Then again, it wasn't like Mombey was all that forthcoming with the information, so how could anyone, including Tip, know the truth? And hadn't her own life and forced anonymity followed the same lack of comprehension?

She shook her head fiercely and forced any thoughts of -- Tip? Ozma? whatever? -- that time from her mind. There was no use in dwelling on something that could never, should never, be. It smacked too much of what she'd come to consider a fatal flaw in her lineage: that forbidden, hidden love. Perhaps it had something to do with past inbreeding within the line of the Eminent Thropps of Munchkinland. Perhaps it was just a curse brought down on her ancestors at some point. But she had four generations of this curse, including herself, so who was she to deny its veracity?

Shaking her head again, she took a deep breath and brought the broomstick -- _her_ broomstick -- down outside the southern gate into the Emerald City. It would do her no good to die now. Or maybe it would. It would certainly put an end to the Thropp curse and all the attendant myths surrounding her heritage. Or maybe it wouldn't. It _would_ put an end to the curse, that was a certainty. Neither Shell nor Nessarose had produced any heirs before their deaths; her parents certainly hadn't had any other children, and wouldn't ever again; and she was determined not to bring further issue into the world as she knew it.

*****

"Rain! It is good to see you again." Brr's voice was both comforting and painful to hear. "I had hoped you would return from your travels sooner rather than later."

She sighed, but accepted his suffocating embrace nevertheless. There was the briefest sting of tears in her eyes as she felt that well-known fur against her cheek again. It was softer, sleeker now. Clearly ruling Oz was beneficial to him. Good. He deserved to be treated well by these people who had scorned and ridiculed him for nearly his entire life. It had all started with her grandmother. Wasn't it funny how everything seemed to have started with her grandmother, or her great-grandmother?

"It wasn't my intention, but something compelled me," she finally said. And it was the truth. "I found your note at the Chancel of the Ladyfish and made my way here."

Brr nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. For all that his new position had made him look and feel far healthier, she could see the strain pulling at the corners of his great mouth, dulling the color in his kind eyes. She knew he missed Illianora greatly; her aunt's defection and death had been a nearly mortal blow to the great Lion. Perhaps he lived with the same hope of Illianora's return that Lady Glinda had lived with regarding her grandmother.

"I wish I could be greeting you with better news," he finally said, still not meeting her eyes just yet. "So much has happened, and yet so little has changed."

She snorted at that. "You speak in the same riddles that Lady Glinda did, Brr, just without the frivolous phraseologies." There was the faintest hint of a smile then, a tiny glint of amusement in his eyes. "You never treated me like a child before, please don't do it now."

"Very well. You are more like your gr--"

"Don't. Just tell me what was so important as to compel me back to this damnable place and let me be on my way."

Brr blinked at the ferocity in her tone, but did his best to cover it. To anyone who didn't know him, it would have gone unnoticed. She, however, had spent several years of her life in close proximity and was thus able to see the tiny crack in his armor.

"As you wish. Your lifelong benefactor, Lady Glinda Upland Chuffrey, has succumbed to the vagaries of Southstairs."

That revelation was enough to send her crashing to the floor in disbelief. Never again would she hear Lady Glinda's voice, feel those impossibly soft hands caress her hair, have the only real family she'd ever known again. And then the anger set in, and she was instantly on her feet again, batting away his outstretched paws. "Succumbed to the vagaries of Southstairs? What a grand and gloriously benign way of saying that prison killed her."

"Rain--"

"What happened to your promise, Brr? What happened to your grand gesture of releasing her as soon as possible? Of giving her the very best treatment possible while you forced her to live in that hellacious place just to appease the citizens of Oz? You're no better than anyone else who has taken over rulership of this damnable place. It's just as cursed as I am. Maybe I'd have been better off going to Kanzizz when Dorothy left."

"Rain, please," was all Brr would say.

"Please what? Please understand that you're new to this whole throne ministership? You've been at it for more than a year now. Please don't hate you for doing what was best for Oz? How do you, or anyone else, know what's best for Oz? Have you asked anyone? Or have you just let your advisors turn you into a puppet leader? Please let you put your royal spin on things I can't begin to understand? You have no idea what I can or cannot understand. Please what, Brr?"

"Please let me explain."

She stared at him for a long moment, breathing heavily in the wake of her rising anger. Even those four simple words did little to ease her ire over this situation. And yet, there was a sadness in the Lion's eyes that bespoke more than she was willing to give him credit for at the moment. With a great huff of emotion, she dropped to the floor again, wrapping her arms around knees drawn up tightly to her chest. The broomstick almost vibrated at her side.

"Then explain."

As Brr launched into his explanation of what happened in the year and more than she'd been away from the Emerald City, she heard his words, but wasn't entirely sure she was listening to them. She did know the distinction, after all. General Cherrystone and Lady Glinda had both sought to teach her to think and process things beyond being the lowly broom girl at Mockbeggar Hall.

Just the thought of Lady Glinda's name brought about such a pang of heartache as to nearly lay her flat on her back from the overwhelming pain of it. She wanted nothing more in that instant than to go back in time, back to when life was simpler and the most pressing things in her life were keeping the floors swept and learning her letters from both Cherrystone and Glinda. No, learning her letters was what started all of this hell that had become her life. She wanted nothing more than to be that innocent, stupid little broom girl again. Everything would be set to rights again, and she would simply refuse to learn her letters if asked again.

A parade of memories, like the movie pictures Dorothy had once spoken of, began to play in her mind's eye. She found herself reliving so many memories of her childhood and young adulthood, all of them directly related to Lady Glinda in some way or another.

_With a kiss upon the seal…_

She blinked suddenly at the softly spoken words. It was a voice she didn't recognize, but it brought back vivid memories of Lady Glinda's voice uttering the same words. What came next? She knew there was more to it, but couldn't remember the rest of the words she knew followed.

"Rain, I apologize for everything that has happened." Brr's words finally pierce through the veil of memories clouding her perception. "Please don't be angry with me. I did everything I could to make sure that Lady Glinda was treated well in Southstairs, but--"

"Did you visit her?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me, Brr. Did you visit her? Make sure she was being treated well?"

He started to answer, then stopped. He scratched behind one ear, then the other, before he spoke again. "I admit that I did not visit Lady Glinda in Southstairs during her incarceration. Initially, it didn't seem appropriate for the Ozma Regent and Throne Minister to be visiting a perceived enemy of the state. But messages were sent back and forth between us, and she seemed in good health. She was given the best treatment for the entire duration of her incarceration; I have this on the highest authority, Rain. But things grew busier, and my advisors assured me that she was being taken care of. I took them at their word, because--"

"Because it was the easy way out," she said, cutting in smoothly. "Did she at least get a decent burial? A royal pardon?" When he didn't say anything further, she scowled. "Was that your choice or _hers_?"

Brr sighed and looked down for a moment. He turned around and walked toward the throne of state. She watched him fumbling with something, but his great cloak prevented her from seeing it. She began to pick at the dirt caked along the hem of her own cloak, wanting to be anywhere but there.

_With a kiss upon the seal…_

And that unknown voice came back again, echoed by a far more familiar voice. Again, that aching stab pierced her chest until she was trembling. From the corner of her eye, something came into sharp focus. A moderately sized folio lay on the ground next to her, just on the other side of the broomstick. Brr's paw slid back out of her field of vision, replaced briefly by the fluffy tip of his tail that stuck out from beneath his cloak.

"Clearly I cannot speak with you of these things at this time, Rain," he said, sadness seemed to seep from every pore of his being. "I will leave you alone for now to digest this information. When it was discovered that she had passed, her belongings were gathered together. Her one request throughout this entire episode was that you receive all of her worldly possessions, being the closest thing to family that she had left. Ozma Tippetarius has been storing the items in her custody at Madame Teastane's Female Seminary, waiting for your eventual return to give them to you. That folio contains a copy of her final wishes, as well as an inventory of what was found in her cell. As for the items purported to be at Mockbeggar Hall, I have no way of verifying their existence at all."

She flinched at the mention of Tip's name, but otherwise made no moves of any kind. She heard him sigh, could almost imagine that he wanted to reach out and take her in his great paws again, just as he had once or twice when she'd first come into his care. A part of her wished he would, but the rest of her knew he wouldn't. It wasn't their way.

"When you're ready to talk, come find me. We have much to catch up on. Until then, you are free to stay here in the palace. If not, your accommodations will be taken care of wherever you choose to stay while you're still in the Emerald City. Just offer the innkeeper the top sheet in the folio. Goodbye for now, Rain."

And then she was alone in the receiving room.

*****

She wasn't sure how long she sat on the floor of the receiving room, just staring at the folio Brr had left. She was curious to know what Lady Glinda's last wishes were and how they affected her; of _course_ , she was curious. Lady Glinda was the only family she'd had until Brr, and Illianora, and the crew of the Time Clock Dragon, and her parents, and Tay, and Tip. She needed some sort of closure, but she didn't want to make everything so real and final either.

Finally, hunger and a numb bottom got her up and moving. It took several moments before the sensation of pins and needles completely abandoned her lower extremities. She was grateful for the offspring of her grandmother's broomstick and the stability it offered. By the time she felt vaguely normal again, there was a suspicious wetness coating her lashes. Scrubbing at her eyes with a fist, she leaned over to pick up the folio and moved to a side table with a chair. Settling on the edge of the seat, as if afraid of taking root in this land of opulence and ostentation, she opened the folio and began to read the pages within.

By the time she finished, there were honest to goodness tears in her eyes. She didn't realize that she'd meant so much to Lady Glinda all these years. Oh, she understood on a purely logical level that an appearance of indifference to the lowest of her staff was necessary to keeping safe the girl in her charge. But once they'd been thrust into close quarters by General Cherrystone, and her abilities at reading the Grimmerie were discovered, things had changed. Perhaps Lady Glinda had always felt that way about her, but she'd just never paid it the slightest bit of attention because she didn't know any better. To be listed as the woman's only living relation only brought more questions than answers. Did Lady Glinda feel that way because of her or because of her grandmother?

With a soft sigh, she replaced all of the sheets within the folio, then stowed it in her travel pouch. She would need to find lodging and food soon, and she knew she couldn't stay in the palace. It was too confining, too much a reminder of the curse of her lineage. She raised herself to her full height and walked out of the receiving room. Heading down the corridor, she stopped the first servant she found and gained a way out of the palace itself.

With the same long, ground-eating strides she'd learned while in the company of Brr and the others, she put as much distance as possible between herself and the palace. She let whim and her nose guide her through the city, knowing that she only had to take to the sky if she got herself lost at all. She found herself in the market district, surrounded by the heady aromas of countless food stalls. There was just enough money in her pouch to purchase a bit of a meal. She withstood the stares and whispered conversations around her, glaring at anyone who might consider starting up either conversation or confrontation with her.

When the sun began to set, her feet led her to a modest enough inn. Once inside, she spoke with the innkeeper and offered him the sheet Brr had mentioned. She was shown to the best room in the entire place. It offered her privacy and a quiet sanctuary away from the bawdy folk down in the common room. It made her think of her time in the haunted boys' dormitory at St. Prowd's. But that only made her think of Tay and Tip, and she didn't want to do that just yet. She ate a meal larger than she was used to, followed by a decadently long soak in the tub in water hot enough to steam the windows. Physically sated, she crawled into the sumptuous bed and fell asleep almost instantly.


	2. The Reunion

Upon waking in the morning, she bathed again, a far less hedonistic affair this time, and took her breakfast with her in the form of an egg sandwich and some fruit. She set out again with the broomstick and her travel pouch, the folio weighing heavily on her soul. She'd dreamt of both Tip and Lady Glinda the night before, and the specter of whom she supposed was her grandmother. It hadn't been good sleep by any stretch of the imagination, but she was used to that. What bothered her the most was that she would have sworn Tay had been curled around her at some point in the night. But she knew that wasn't possible. She didn't even know if the green-tinged rice otter had stayed with Tip or not, but it was no longer her concern.

She also knew that she couldn't put off this forced reunion with Tip, not if she wanted to get as far from the jewel of Oz as quickly as she possibly could. No, it was time to face up to her past, so she could move on toward her future. Whatever that ended up being. As if by memory, her feet guided her toward Madame Teastane's Female Seminary, but she let her eyes take in all of the sights around her as if it were her first -- more likely last -- visit to the Emerald City.

As the building came into view, her heart began to pound in her chest, forcing the breath from her lungs unceremoniously. It took several moments before she could calm herself enough to cross the street, walk up to the doorstep, and knock on the door. She smoothed down her clothes, wishing she'd had something more fitting to wear when requesting an audience with the Ozma Regnant. Even if Tip never took up her royal office of lineage, she should still be afforded all the rights, privileges, and courtesies of the title until she chose to abdicate. But would she abdicate? Could she abdicate? Did Oz really need to continue the royal Ozma line to survive?

"You must be here to see Her Highness?" came the stuffy voice of the pretentious looking woman staring at her from the other side of the entry. "Of course, you are. With that green skin, you can be none other than Miss Rainary Ko. Her Highness has been waiting for you."

With that, the woman turned and began to walk back into the foyer of the building. She followed behind quickly, not wanting to get lost -- or lose her nerve. Suddenly a green blur came out of nowhere and coiled itself up around her legs and torso until it rested on her shoulder, chittering angrily.

"Hello, Tay," she said softly, unable to reach up and pet her little friend. "It's good to see you, too."

Tay hissed something, nipped at her earlobe, and leapt off her body in one fluid movement. The rice otter disappeared into the room at the end of the hall, then came back out to stare at her, as if beckoning her closer. She ignored the stuffy woman at this point, who seemed to be making some sort of obsequious introduction into the very same room. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room, coming face to face with the only person with whom she'd ever felt the love of companionship and lovers.

"Hello, Rain."

She didn't look any different from the last time they'd seen each other, and yet this still wasn't _her_ Tip. Upon closer inspection, she could see a kind of heaviness had settled on Tip's shoulders, darkening the eyes she'd once adored to stare into. What was she saying? Tip was gone, replaced by Ozma Tippetarius.

"I'm still Tip, Rain, no matter than I am also Ozma Tippetarius, and I still love you just as much as I did then."

She blinked at the admission and saw the doubled image of Tip superimposed over the young woman standing before her. Nodding slowly, she stepped further into the room, but still couldn't come quite close enough to touch her erstwhile lover.

"I've come for Lady Glinda's things," she finally said, feeling every bit the uncouth broom girl she was growing up. "My things, I suppose."

"And then you'll leave again, is that it?" There was reproach in Tippetarius' tone.

_With a kiss upon the seal…_

She started at the joined voices in her head, Lady Glinda's and the unknown woman. This time, they were joined by an image of two hands entwined, one pale pink, the other green. Where was this coming from? Was she losing her mind?

"I -- I don't know," she finally said, meeting Tippetarius' eyes again. "So much is still confusing and painful."

"I know." Glancing up at that, she could see the love and pain reflecting in the other girl's eyes, and she knew that her turmoil was not hers alone. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know." The words came out in a whisper, as if anything louder would make this whole situation even more surreal.

The soft sound of Tay's claws clattering against the floor grounded her; rice otter wriggling up her body to perch on her shoulder again fortified her. She crossed the last few feet to stand directly in front of Tippetarius, close enough to feel the heat emanating from her body. They just stared at each other for several long moments, the only sounds in the room were their breathing and Tay's grooming.

"Please, sit down, Rain," came the request after she'd swayed slightly on her feet. "Miss Havershim, please bring in the tea service," she called toward the door.

She no more than found herself settled on a comfortable settee than the door opened to admit the pretentious woman who'd led her to this room. A tray laden with tea and all sorts of breakfast foods was brought into the room before the woman was dismissed without so much as a single word. She had to give Tippetarius credit for having that royal attitude down. Lady Glinda would have been so proud.

She accepted the cup being pressed into her hand, then hissed at the electricity of the brief touch of their fingers. It was enough to push away the crushing grief she was still dealing with over the news of Lady Glinda's death. They ate quietly, the food and companionship more of a balm than she'd ever have guessed. Perhaps it was because of Tay. But she knew it was more than that.

"Can -- can you tell me if she suffered much in Southstairs?" she finally asked, unsure where she'd gotten the courage to utter the words.

"Not that I know of," came the reply. "I saw her only a handful of times. It wasn't considered seemly for the Ozma Regnant to be seen down in the hellpit of Southstairs, regardless of her reasons. Apparently the advisors were less inclined to allow Brr to see her, but I found ways to get my way. She was well cared for, Rain, of that you can be assured."

"But no one would allow her release? Allow her to live out the rest of her life as befitting a former throne minister of the realm?" She couldn't stop the bitterness from tainting her words.

"I petitioned for a full pardon, Brr petitioned for a full pardon and a release, but the advisors refused every single time. We did what we could, Rain. Please don't hold it against either of us."

She sighed and slumped forward to rest her forehead in her hands. "She was the only family I had that I understood to be family."

"That's not true, and you know it."

The words were sharply spoken, and she knew she deserved them. "No, you're probably right. I just…" She paused a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. "Do you know if anything's left of Mockbeggar Hall?"

Tippetarius shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I can't say I'm not surprised that they'd keep that from you, too. Apparently the _advisors_ are enjoying too much their power over all of Oz."

"They're no worse than my great-uncle or my great-grandfather in that respect. I wonder if they're distantly related to the Thropps at all. They certainly have the insanity down pat."

Tippetarius laughed at that. She glanced up to see the guilty pleasure in the girl's eyes before joining in on the laughter. It eased a tightness in her chest she hadn't recognized. She hesitantly reached over to touch Tippetarius' hand again.

"Your Highness--"

"Tip," she interrupted. "To you, I will _always_ be Tip, no matter what anyone else calls me. I would give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant that you stayed, Rain."

She blinked at that, breath caught in her throat. "I… I don't know what to say to that."

"Just say that you'll consider staying. I'll even go with you to Mockbeggar Hall to see what is still salvageable there. You own it all, you know. She was quite thorough and insistent in her demands and final wishes."

_With a kiss upon the seal…_

"I'll consider it, Tip."

And for the first time in a long time, she actually believed that she meant it.

*****

"Some of these things, as well as any parts of her library still intact at Mockbeggar Hall would be wonderful additions to the royal library," Tip said as she pointed to several items on the inventory. "That is, of course, if you are willing to part with them. I wouldn't presume to take ownership of anything that is rightfully yours."

 _Except for my heart._ The thought came unbidden, and yet, she knew it was the truth.

"As long as they're not destroyed by the advisors" -- the word began to take on a distastefulness every time she spoke it -- "I have no issues with that. There are certain books I remember from her personal library at Mockbeggar Hall that I would like to keep for sentimental reasons, but the rest mean nothing to me."

Tip nodded, absently stroking Tay's green fur, as she studied the list again. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth. She suddenly shook her head as if rejecting some idea in her mind. "There is something here that Lady Glinda was very insistent you have upon the event of her demise."

She found it interesting that no one could say the word "death" when speaking of Lady Glinda. It was as if no one could marry the concept with the larger than life woman they'd all known in one way or another during her lifetime, as if saying it made the whole situation more final than it already was.

"Oh?"

Tip took a deep breath, as if to shore up her resolve, then reached into the box of Lady Glinda's possessions and pulled out a smallish book. She placed it into her hands, not quite able to meet her eyes.

Just the sight of the book took her breath away. Feeling its familiar heft in her hands nearly undid her composure. She remembered this book very distinctly. It was smaller than most of the books that Lady Glinda had owned, but larger than the magically shrunken size of the Grimmerie, and yet it had a heft to it that felt at odds with its size. The deep green leather, so dark as to nearly be black, had become more dried out and brittle since she'd last seen it in the older woman's hands. She knew that some oil and tender loving care would return it to the age-shined appearance it had when she was growing up, and she vowed to restore it as soon as she was able.

_With a kiss upon the seal…_

And suddenly she was transported back to the countless mornings and evenings at Mockbeggar Hall when she would watch Lady Glinda lovingly stroke the book and write upon its pages. There were often tears in her bright blue eyes after she'd written in or read it. She'd never understood Lady Glinda's attachment to the book, especially when it wasn't shared with her. How was she supposed to learn her letters if Lady Glinda wouldn't let her read the book that was most treasured in the whole of Mockbeggar Hall? Well, the most treasured book besides the magically hidden Grimmerie, of course. She held the book up to her face and swore she could smell Lady Glinda's perfumes and powders. The sensory memory brought tears to her eyes. What she wouldn't give to have just five minutes with Lady Glinda again, to be able to tell her what she had meant to a stupid little broom girl all those years. But it wasn't meant to be.

"Is it familiar?" Tip was asking her the question, but she could tell by the girl's voice that it had been asked more than once.

"Oh yes," she finally said hoarsely around the lump in her throat. "Very familiar indeed."

"It was imperative that you have this. Lady Glinda was insistent, to say the least. I daresay she left bruises on my arm the last time I saw her. She made me promise that you would get this book, Rain, no matter what. She said it would explain everything, if only you could remember what you'd learned at her knee. Does that make any sense to you?"

"I'm not sure." In all honesty, she wasn't sure. But she was determined to figure it out, out of respect for the woman who'd raised her. Even if it took a lifetime, she'd figure it out. "But I'll find a way, Lady Glinda, I promise," she whispered.

*****

> Dear Diary,

> This is the very first time that I am writing in you. Isn't that truly fantastical? I just love having a beautiful, pristine diary to fill with all of my innermost thoughts and dreams, don't you? Well, of course you don't feel that. You're just a diary, aren't you? But you're mine, and you'll take everything that I want you to have, won't you?

> You were a gift from Elphaba. Honestly, I don't understand that girl. She is so very strange. We've been roommates for a couple of months now, and I'm still not exactly sure what she's all about. She's so exasperating most of the time, all sarcastic and dreary. But then she'll turn around and do something to surprise me. Like giving me this diary. Giving you to me.

> She said that she knew I used journals, and she wanted me to have a special one for my time here at Shiz, and beyond. Honestly, I don't know how she expects me to believe that you will last longer than my time here at Shiz. It's not like you're all that large or thick. You might hold out until the end of the year, but I don't know. I guess it depends on how much I want to write on your lovely, decadently pristine pages.

> But now I must dash off to meet Pfannee and Shenshen for lunch. Perhaps Avaric will come by as we have our picnic.

> All my love,  
>  Galinda

> ***

> Dear Diary,

> Oh what a day! I don't understand why things have to be so difficult! I am pretty, I am popular, and I should be able to get good grades without trying. Like Elphaba does. Then again, she spends all of her time studying, so I suppose her grades are going to be higher than mine, aren't they? I just get so bored by all of that dry reading! Why can't these things be more lighthearted and fun?

> Oh well. I guess I can't have everything I want, can I? Time for dinner and then studying. Yuck!

> All my love,  
>  Galinda

> ***

> Dear Diary,

> What am I supposed to do about that Avaric? He'd be the perfect husband, but he's so confusifying! He's just far too cavalier about his studies, and yet somehow he gets good grades, too. How is that possible? I must learn his secret!

> Elphaba took me on a picnic today. Well, she didn't actually take me on the picnic. She said she wanted to gather some herbs for some tea she's trying to make. I invited myself along with a picnic lunch because it was such a beautiful day. She clearly wanted to be alone, but I ignored that. No one can want to be so alone all the time as she does. It's just not natural.

> I tried to get her to enjoy herself, have a little fun, but she didn't like that. She shrieked and jumped as if a snake was going to bite her when I tried to splash her with a little water from the river. It's just river water. I mean, it's not as good as bath water, but it's still acceptably fine water. Her weird aversion to water is strange.

> Oh, Pfannee and Shenshen are here to go to dinner. I'll write more later on hopefully.

> All my love,  
>  Galinda

*****

"Was Lady Glinda always this way?"

She shrugged, staring at the page a moment longer. "I guess so? I mean, I don't remember her being quite this flighty at Mockbeggar Hall, but we're also talking about an age difference of about thirty or forty years. I do know that she tended to act flightier when others were around, less intelligent than she really was."

There was something about the diary that was niggling at her, but she couldn't quite place it. Idly, she flipped through the pages, trying to see if she could guess what it was. The curly, effusive penmanship was so very much a part of what she remembered of Lady Glinda's handwriting. And yet, it seemed to be lacking something at the same time. There was something more that she should be able to decipher, but it was shrouded just out of her reach, like the Oz mists.

"I've talked to Brr this morning, before you arrived," Tip said suddenly, causing her to glance up sharply at the tone in her voice. She regretted the movement the moment she saw the smile tugging at the corners of Tip's mouth. "I am going into seclusion for the next several weeks, in preparation for attaining my majority. A time of reflection and seeking out the enormity of my coming role as Queen of all Oz."

She nodded, studying Tip through half-lidded eyes. This information shouldn't have come as any sort of surprise to her, and yet there was a hint of mischief and subterfuge to her words. "That is your right," she finally said, wondering what it meant for her own time with the other girl.

"You really can be dense sometimes, Rain," came the reply. "No one will disturb me if I'm in seclusion."

"Of course not. That would be the height of rudeness."

Tip sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Weren't you saying that you'd like to see what's left of Mockbeggar Hall?" She nodded, still confused. "If everyone thinks I'm in seclusion, and you need to go to Mockbeggar Hall…"

Realization struck like lightning out of the blue. "Oh! I didn't think that you'd want to-- I mean, there's probably nothing left of the place after everything that's happened over the last couple of years."

"It doesn't matter. You need to settle things in your own mind and soul, Rain. Even if that means we travel to find the burned ruins of your former home. I think it would be something that Lady Glinda would have wanted you to do."

She nodded, unable to get any words past the thumping lump of her heart in her throat. Just the thought of Mockbeggar Hall thoroughly destroyed terrified her now more than it had when she'd lived there and they'd had to deal with all of the dragons and Cherrystone's armies. But she would do this, for Lady Glinda, for Puggles, for Miss Murth, for everyone who had come to mean something to her at Mockbeggar Hall, even if she didn't realize they were important until it was far too late to say so. She even felt a strange sort of kinship to General Cherrystone, if only because he was just as instrumental in her learning to read as Lady Glinda was.

"When do we leave?" she finally asked, after clearing her throat several times first.


	3. The Revelation

That night, as she slept in her room at the inn, her dreams were filled with Mockbeggar Hall and its denizens, both permanent and temporary. She wanted to be there again, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of Lady Glinda's household before the Ozian armies came to camp there. It had been safe and comforting then, allowing her the anonymity she so clearly needed to survive.

She found her dream self walking up the curved staircase to Lady Glinda's suite, a sense of familiarity washing over her. Miss Murth was pushing her from behind, trying to get her to move more quickly.

"Hurry up, child, you don't want to be keeping Her Ladyship waiting," Miss Murth said, distaste dripping from every one of her words.

She followed the older woman into the main receiving room of Lady Glinda's suite. General Cherrystone was there, and the conversation appeared to be less than acceptable to both of them, making her wish she had a broom to keep herself busy while she waited. When he finally left, the general stared at her for a long moment before storming past her and slamming the door behind him.

"What an uncouth boor!" Lady Glinda replied crossly, then sighed. "Well, there's nothing more to be done about it now, I suppose. Miss Murth, why is this child here?"

"You asked for her," was the reply, without a shred of deference to her employer. "I just brought her here."

Lady Glinda stared at her for a long moment, some emotion flitting across her eyes and disappearing before she could really understand what it was. And then she was pointing toward the ensuite. "You'll find what you need in there, child. What's your name? Murthy, what's her name?"

"Rain, ma'am," she replied before the pinchy-faced older woman could do so.

"Yes, Rain, though I think we won't be seeing any of what you're named after for several weeks now." Lady Glinda shook her head, stray curls bobbing against her temples. "As I was saying, you will find a broom and cleaning supplies in there. It seems that you have become my new personal cleaning maid."

She nodded, curtseyed clumsily, and went to retrieve cleaning supplies. Without another word, she began to do what she knew best. Miss Murth left the rooms at some point, and she could feel the change in mood when it happened. She continued her cleaning, paying special attention to the bookshelves and the pretty baubles that Lady Glinda treasured so.

"With a kiss upon the seal, all my secrets do reveal."

The words were spoken so softly, she wasn't sure she'd actually heard them at first. She kept dusting the contents of the bookshelves to the soothing sounds of Lady Glinda's pen scratching faintly against the paper. The armies were quiet outside for once, and she could hear the horses neighing down in the meadow. Turning to go to the next bookcase, she stared at Lady Glinda for a moment. There was something different about the book she was writing in. It was so much larger than when she'd first come into the room and saw it on the desk while Lady Glinda fought with General Cherrystone. Shaking her head at her own confusion, she continued cleaning and fell back into the comfortable lull of the room.

"Oh, Elphie," came the soft whisper, followed by a muted sob. "Where are you? Why don't you answer me? I've left you so many letters…"

She woke with a start then, like she'd been doused by the bracing water of a mountain stream. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, it was as if everything had been brought into startling clarity. The words she'd been hearing in her mind for the past two days had been with her all this time. But would the spell work for her? And what did Lady Glinda mean about the letters? It was all so confusing! Tomorrow, when they were safely ensconced in the carriage that would take them to Mockbeggar Hall, she'd give the spell a try. If it worked, they could see just what Lady Glinda had hidden so cleverly. If it didn't, they'd only waste the time and energy in trying.

*****

 _"With a kiss upon the seal_  
All my secrets do reveal"

The minute she spoke the words, the book seemed to shudder in her hands, but did nothing else. She frowned and felt something niggling at the back of her mind. It wasn't quite right yet; she was missing something. She turned the book over in her hands, flipped through the pages again, then stared at the front cover again. This time, she noticed the small symbol on the spine. It was almost invisible within the curlicues and swirls placed as decoration. A pointy hat surrounded by a perfect circle. So similar to the Oz symbol she'd found once in the Grimmerie.

She fingered the symbol briefly, felt the flare of magic tingling against her fingertip. She took a deep breath and spoke the words again, finishing by pressing her lips to the seal. There was a moment that felt like time had been frozen, and then the book began to transform. It grew in length and breadth and depth.

"Well, that explains why it felt the way it did."

She nodded at Tip's words, but couldn't move her eyes from the transformation before her. The leather cover even took on a shinier, more clearly well-cared for patina. She stroked the leather gently, almost fearfully, but wouldn't open the book for long moments. If asked, she wouldn't be able to say exactly why, but she was terrified of what she'd discover in that diary. These were Lady Glinda's private thoughts. The very thought that she'd find more of the inane chatter that they'd been reading for the last two days was daunting. That they might find something more substantial was equally intimidating.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye, watched as Tip reached over to entwine their fingers atop the book. The movement was comforting, a silent support of whatever she chose to do next, and a reminder of the image she'd seen in her mind's eye before she knew the origin of the strangely familiar words whispering in her head.. Two days ago, she wouldn't have thought it possible, but she found it gave her the strength to open the book. Even on the first page, she could already see the difference. The original first entry was fading to be replaced by something else entirely; it was still faintly visible in the background, easily ignored in the light of what was replacing it. The handwriting was smaller, less flourished, but still wholly Lady Glinda's.

*****

> Oh, I do hope that this works out. If it doesn't, I'll have to hate Elphaba forever and ever. She promised me that the spell would allow this book to be the only diary I'll ever need again for the rest of my life. She also promised that I'd be able to write anything I please here and no one will see it.

> I wonder if she'll be able to read what I write here?

> I don't even know why she gave me this diary in the first place, or why she chose to put such a spell on it. I mean, I understand that she was being nice, but it's not like I've given her any reason to be nice to me. I don't even know if I like her enough to reciprocate with any sort of gift.

> No, that's a lie, Galinda Arduenna, and you know it. You do so like her enough to reciprocate. You just don't have the skills to give her something comparable. You'll figure it out someday.

> And why am I talking to myself like this in my own diary? Oh dear, I'm losing my mind.

> But that's beside the point, isn't it?

> I'm not sure what's going on, but I am coming to like Elphaba more and more as time goes on. She's not nearly as prickly and boorish as I thought when we were first introduced. She's quite intelligent and a natural at doing her spellwork. I can see why Madame Morrible has taken such a liking to her and let her into the advanced class.

> I wish I had half of her talents. At least then I'd have something to fall back on when I leave Shiz. Pfannee and Shenshen only want to have their degree from Shiz to look even more marriageable to suitable young men of society. At first, that's all I wanted, too. But meeting Elphaba, living with her and seeing what she's like when not constantly on the defensive has made me rethink my motives a bit.

> I'm not sure what Momsy and Popsicle will do when they learn that their little Galinda is more than just her pretty dresses and golden curls and baubles. And I don't want my friends to know about this side of me just yet. Maybe not until we've all graduated from Shiz. But how will I be able to continue a friendship, a relationship beyond antagonism, with Elphaba without my friends ostracizing me in the process?

> Is this what being an adult means? If it is, I'm not sure I like it.

> ***

> Elphaba let me join her today on an outing. She was going to hunt for some herbs for a tea she wanted to make. I think it was something she hoped would help her sleep. She's been having some strange dreams of late, or so I've discovered upon hearing her muttering and crying in the night.

> I ignored her for several nights, stuffing my pillows over my head, but finally I couldn't bear to hear the pitiful sounds again last night and went to her bed. I touched her arm, calling her name softly, but she didn't acknowledge my presence. I tried again, speaking a little louder. This time, she turned and latched onto my hand with both of hers, and began to beg for forgiveness. I don't think she was talking to me in her dreams, but I can't be perfectly sure of that, and I'm afraid to ask her. I don't know that I want to know the answer, to be honest.

> Elphaba kept crying and begging, and her grip on my hand got stronger, too. Before I realized what I was doing, I slipped into the bed beside her, stroked her face and hair with my free hand. She began to calm instantly, more so when I began to murmur nonsense words to her. I knew it had worked for Momsy when I would have nightmares.

> As I sat there, stroking her hair and trying to calm her, Elphaba relaxed her grip on my hand, but curled against my body. Her cheek was resting against my thigh, her temple against my stomach, and she slipped her arms around my waist. It was an entirely strange feeling that began to wriggle in the pit of my stomach at the sensation of her warm skin so close to my own.

> I did my best to ignore it, but I couldn't. In sleep, Elphaba dropped all of her defenses, and I could see just how beautiful she was beneath all that green prickliness. And she really is beautiful. The pinched angles of her face soften when she's asleep. I found myself fighting the urge to press a kiss to her lips.

> What's going on here? I'm not supposed to be doing this. This is _Elphaba_ , for Lurline's sake! Nobody likes her. Well, except for Fiyero and Boq. Not even her sister or Nanny really like her. And yet, I want to like her. I might even want…

> No, I won't even mention it by name. If I say it, I give it power. And I'm not sure I want to give that idea any kind of power right now.

> Or ever…

> ***

> She had another nightmare last night. The fourth night in a row this week. And for the fourth night in a row, I slipped out of my own bed and into hers to help calm her down. It took far longer for her to settle down last night, and she clung to me more tightly than she ever has before. She wouldn't let go of me, no matter what I tried, and I ended up falling asleep with my back against the headboard and Elphie's head in my lap, my fingers twined in her dark hair.

> I can't be one hundred percent sure of what woke me in the last moments before dawn made itself known, but I remember the sensation of a fleeting touch that sent butterflies dancing in my stomach. I squinted through barely parted lashes to see Elphie rubbing her cheek against my stomach, almost nuzzling against me, an unfettered smile lighting up her face. She murmured something that I didn't understand, but I swear I heard my name. The butterflies migrated from my stomach to my chest at that point, and I gently massaged her scalp until she settled again. I followed her back into sleep with a smile of my own.

> I finally woke up when the bed shifted beneath me, and the warmth was suddenly gone. Elphie was _not_ pleased to find me in her bed. Well, that's what she said, but I could see something lurking in her eyes that spoke to the contrary. I explained what had been happening, and she shook her head as if she wouldn't believe it, and then she shot out of the bed as if my touch burned her.

> I just sat there, heart breaking in my chest, as she rushed through her morning ablutions and ran out of our room. I'm not sure how long I sat there before finally getting up to prepare for breakfast, but my face was blotchy from crying, and no amount of makeup or glamoury could hide it. I ended up telling Pfannee and Shenshen that I'd been hit with some sort of allergic reaction. Thankfully, they didn't question me, but made sure to bring me food during the day.

> Elphie hasn't come back yet, and it's well after dark. I've spent all day in my own bed, staring at her empty half of the room. And thinking. And realizing that something happened overnight to change the nature of my relationship with Elphie. Something deeper than I've ever felt for another living being. I'm not sure what to do about it, but I don't want to lose it. And I don't want to lose Elphie.

> Look at me! I'm even calling her _Elphie_ now, instead of Elphaba.

> Where is she? Why won't she come home? What if something's happened to her? I don't even know where to begin to look for her. I can't lose her, not now.

> Please come home, Elphie.

> ***

> It is well past midnight and she's still not back from wherever she took off to. I am utterly exhausted. I want to wait up and make sure she comes home, but I can't. This is going to be such a short entry, I probably shouldn't even be wasting the time, space, and magic to add it to you, Diary, but I must.

> Please come home, Elphie.

> ***

> I had my first test of how efficacious the spell is this morning. Pfannee decided it would be funny to take my journal while I was getting more juice at breakfast. When I came back, I found her and ShenShen reading what I'd written. They were making fun of some of my words. My heart literally jumped into my throat at the thought of them learning my secrets -- my _real_ secrets. But as I listened to what they were saying -- I was behind them and they were too caught up in their little game to notice -- I realized that Elphie's promise had been fulfilled. They were only talking about the stupid, superficial things that I wrote publicly. Nothing of what I've written under the spell's protection was visible.

> Oh, Diary, I cannot possibly find the words to express how very relieved I was to know that they couldn't see what I've written about Elphie in here. Things I can't even say aloud to myself or Elphie, let alone anyone else.

> Thank you, Elphie, for the spell that allows me this safe space to work out things that no one else can know about me. About us. Even if there is no _us_ other than my fanciful words hidden within these pages. That will be enough for me, I think.

> ***

> > You are more than welcome, Galinda.

> > And before you get upset, I am not going to make a habit of reading what you write here unless you invite me to. I just knew that you were upset by my disappearance, and I needed to find a way to reassure you that I am not going anywhere.

> > We have much to talk about, but it's not yet time for that. Soon, my sweet, soon we will have that conversation.

*****

"So their relationship goes back that far?" Tip asked, a finger stroking down the edge of the page.

She shrugged, eyes following Tip's finger. "I guess so. Lady Glinda never talked about it with me, so I only know the speculation that everyone else in Oz seems to know." She sighed and reached for Tip's hand, grateful when the other girl twined their fingers together. "Even my father seemed to think that they were far closer than even the gossips would tell, but it's not like Lady Glinda could verify that without potentially causing harm to herself."

"And who will it harm to discover the truth now, with both of them dead?"

She nodded slowly, realizing the veracity of Tip's words. The coach shuddered to a halt, and she quickly murmured the spell to hide the true nature of the journal again as Tip slipped into the disguise of a maunt. They both finished their transformations just before the coach door shook itself open.

"We'll be stopping here for a bit to rest the horses, Miss Ko," the driver said, distrust in his eyes as he stared at the green skin. She was certain he'd have refused this trip if it hadn't been for the royal seal on the letter to procure his employment. "Will you and Sister Mystère be getting out to stretch your legs?"

She bit her lip to keep from smiling at the maunt's name they'd come up with for Tip, but shook her head. "No, Sister Mystère is feeling under the weather, and I'm not willing to leave her alone in that state. Thank you for asking, and please let us know when we're ready to head out again. I am anxious to see my childhood home again."

He muttered something under his breath and he closed the door again. She held her breath until his footsteps faded away and she could hear him yelling at his apprentice from some distance away. Certain they were temporarily safe, she spoke the spell again and waited for the book's transformation before opening it.

*****

> Elphie's nightmares have finally eased, at least for the time being. She said that they can come and go at will sometimes. Personally, I think she just didn't want to get caught with me in her bed. That one near miss with Nanny was enough to scare me off, that's for sure.

> It's been nearly a week and we still haven't had that talk that she promised me. I'm beginning to think it just won't ever happen. I'm not exactly sure what that means, or how it makes me feel, other than being very sad. If we are to remain friends, I need to know that, so I can insulate my heart against any further injuries. If we are not to even have that, I definitely need to have the time to shore up my resolve.

> Please, dear Diary, if you have any sway over these sorts of things in the world, send out your wishes that Elphie doesn't push us back to the way we first were. I don't know that my heart could bear it.

> ***

> Last night, it was my turn to have a nightmare. I think it's because of all of this uncertainty with Elphie. No, I _know_ it's because of all this uncertainty with Elphie. She's been taking lots of long walks in the evenings after supper and doesn't come back until after I've given up and gone to bed. I'm not sure if she's studying or not while she's gone, just that she's gone.

> I hate it. I hate every single second of it. And I hate not knowing what is going on. And if it continues, I may start hating Elphie again.

> And I don't want that, Diary. Not one little bit.

> But my nightmare… In my nightmare, there was a role reversal between us. Everyone was green and angular and wore those drab, dark things that Elphie likes to call clothing. I was the outsider with my creamy skin, blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and yards of pink clothing. Her friends were so mean to me, Diary, and I cried all the time.

> I could never be as stoic as Elphie has been in the face of that sort of torment. I don't know how she's done it all her life like she has. She's so much stronger than I'll ever be.

> When I awoke from my nightmare, she was asleep in her bed, back to me. I cried such bitter tears at that. All those times that I woke up and went to comfort her when she had nightmares, and she couldn't even bother to do the same for me once? She's not _that_ deep a sleeper. I know she's not.

*****

"Your grandmother was pretty mean to Lady Glinda when they were younger."

She snorted. "Considering the stories I've heard about how Lady Glinda and her friends treated Elphaba, I think she was completely justified. How was she supposed to know that the change in attitude was sincere or not?"

Tip stared at her, confusion in her eyes. "Well, clearly it _was_ sincere, or they wouldn't have been together in the end."

"But they weren't together in the end. My grandmother ran off to be an Animal rights terrorist and Lady Glinda became a pawn of both the Wizard and Madame Morrible. They never saw each other again after Dorothy killed Nessarose, and I have it from Lady Glinda herself that their final words were less than friendly."

She dropped her gaze to the journal, staring at the strokes and swirls left by Lady Glinda's pen so many years ago. She didn't want to fight with Tip, but she couldn't help herself. The more time she spent with the other girl, the more she felt the glacier around her heart melting. She couldn't risk getting hurt _again_.

The movement caught in the corner of her eye brought her back to the present again before she registered the sensation of Tip's hand against hers again. Their fingers were intertwined tightly; she was applying just as much pressure to keep the connection as Tip was. The thought that she could be falling back in love so easily terrified her more than words could express.

What terrified her even more was the fact that she wasn't sure if falling in love with Tip again was such a bad thing.

TBC in Part 2


End file.
